


The Move

by Lemon_drop_lantana



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal Sex, Feelings, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27283654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_drop_lantana/pseuds/Lemon_drop_lantana
Summary: Reno's moving in with Rude.  They go together to pack up his stuff.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 53





	The Move

They walk in and it smells oddly stale. Like Reno has already moved out. Like he’s been gone for years. And, mostly, he has. 

Rude drops a stack of boxes on the floor and Reno scratches his head idly, looking around. It looks like a lot of shit to take care of. A pain in the ass.

Reno’s moving in. To Rude’s place, obviously. Everything about it is obvious. It’s nicer. Safer. More comfortable. Rude’s there. They’ve been fucking forever, basically. 

Why now? Why after so many years together? It’s not because of the cost. Reno’s place is a cheap one-bedroom in the worst corner of a barely-acceptable sector. The expense is negligible. 

But for some reason… it has been worrying at him lately. Like an untied shoelace. This never-used escape route he’s holding on to. Reno didn’t say anything about it, but somehow Rude seemed to know. Rude said it first. Simple and direct like always. They were eating breakfast before work, sitting at the small table in Rude’s kitchen that fit two comfortably, four in a pinch.

“You should get rid of your old place.”

Reno didn’t say anything. The idea was immediately appealing. So appealing, it made Reno uncomfortable.

It had always been some measure of comfort that he still had his own place. If things ever went south with Rude, he had an escape. Maybe it was silly. They’d been partners for ten years. Lovers for six. Somehow, things with Rude never got stale. Maybe it was the job. Killing people and risking death made for a good night in bed. Maybe it was the occasional threesome. Or the fact that Rude has only gotten more muscular as he approached thirty. Whatever. Reno didn’t see an end for them. Not in six months. Not in six years. Maybe not in his lifetime, however long that might be.

The apartment didn’t do anything but sit there. He paid it no attention. Why, now, was it so bothersome to have this backup plan? 

Reno swung by his apartment alone one day. He slipped out over lunch while Rude was occupied because he didn’t want to talk about it. He walked in for the first time in months and looked around. It felt... off. It wasn’t just unfamiliar, it was a bad fit. Like he was standing in a stranger’s living room. 

Reno realized he would never, under any circumstances, live there again. That apartment wasn’t his safe escape at all anymore. It was just relic of his eighteen-year-old self. A version of Reno that was still more wounds than scars. A version that was gone.

So that evening, as he slouched on the couch with Rude’s head in his lap, fingers idly scratching at his partner’s scalp, Reno said, “Yeah. I should get rid of my old place. It’s a waste.” Of money. Of energy. Of… something Reno can’t specify.

Reno cancels his lease and they go back together to pack up anything that ought to be taken. But as he stands in the cramped living room for the second time in a week, Reno can already tell that they’ve got too many boxes.

Reno had furnished his apartment with whatever cheap junk came easily to hand. He can’t remember selecting any of it. Why would he buy this stuff? Maybe he just didn’t know the difference. Or maybe he was so consumed with being a Turk he had no energy or interest to invest in his place. Or maybe he didn’t see the point. 

It’s taken him a while to get used to the thought of _living_ rather than surviving. Of seeing a life that stretches out more than six months ahead of him.

Reno will admit it. It took Rude to do that. To slowly color in all the parts that felt flat and grey from neglect. The pieces that didn’t serve him in his childhood, or even as a Turk. The pieces that felt like unnecessary vulnerability. 

Looking at this cheap apartment, his previous life seems so spare and empty. Reno had money when he lived here. He just never spent it on this type of thing. On making life rather than consuming it.

Rude has gone into the kitchen to take inventory. He opens the dirty, white refrigerator, looks in, and then closes it with a shake of his head. “We’ll hire someone to clean when we’re done,” he says.

He opens the cabinets and drawers. Many are empty, but there’s a random assortment of cups and plates and cutlery and bottle openers. Rude grabs a plastic cup and fills it from the sink to take a drink. Notices that it’s cracked down the side and beads of water are leaking out.

“All your stuff is shit, Reno. Didn’t you ever get anything nice?”

_I got you, partner._

What Reno says is, “It’s better this way. You got all the nice stuff for me. Otherwise we’d have doubles and have to argue over whose silk sheets to keep.”

“My sheets are linen,” Rude clarifies as he heads into Reno’s tiny bathroom. There’s a towel hanging over the shower door and it's stiff as wood. It has probably been there for years. He opens the cabinet under the sink and finds that it’s stacked with tubs and bottles and sprays. 

Rude teases, “Does it really take all this stuff to get your hair to stand up like that?” 

He knows it doesn’t. Reno’s already got his whole beauty regimen stocked in Rude’s bathroom now. These are just the leftovers. The also-rans that didn’t quite have the staying power to make it through a thirty-six-hour shift. Or smelled funny.

“Toss ‘em,” Reno says as he wanders by.

Into the bedroom. He never got a nightstand. Just a spare stool sitting by his bed with a wire lamp on top. Since there was no drawer, the lube sat on the floor underneath it, tucked up by the leg of the bed. Reno can remember how Rude would roll over on his side and reach for it without looking.

Rude comes up behind him. Two hands on his hips. A nuzzle at his nape and then a warm mouth on his neck. And suddenly, Reno goes back in time to the first night they had sex here. It wasn’t their first time fucking, but it was early. Things were undefined. Way back when they started going out for drinks too often, needing both the boldness and the excuse of alcohol to fall in bed together. Sex was always the aim. The drinks were just the path they took.

Reno had felt shy about bringing Rude here the first time. Into his shitty little den with pressed wood furniture and bare walls. Thought it was one more piece of evidence that he wasn’t really good enough for Rude.

But Rude didn’t even look around. Didn’t take his eyes off Reno for a second. He made Reno feel… important. Worthwhile. Even surrounded by all the cheap trappings of his life.

Rude had crowded him through the front door as soon as it was unlocked. Pressed against Reno’s back with his big hands sliding up Reno’s stomach, under his untucked shirt. Reno had paused for a minute, suddenly hesitant as he saw his place through Rude’s eyes. Cheap carpet and mismatched furniture and cracked countertops. The place Reno had picked because it fit him. He wasn’t anything nice.

Reno had reached out to turn on the lights out of habit, but Rude caught his wrist before his fingers reached the switch. Kept them in the dark. Pushed back Reno’s sleeve to kiss his wrist. Kiss his palm. Kiss his fingers. It wasn’t a tease. It was just… so good Reno had to close his eyes. Make things even more dark.

And then Rude pulled him in and locked the door. Led him into the bedroom. Laid him down on the bed and climbed on top so that when Reno finally opened his eyes again, he couldn’t see anything but Rude anymore. 

That night, Rude had said, _You’re beautiful._ And Reno _felt_ it.

And now when he feels Rude close behind him again, fingers wrapping around his wrist, momentum carrying him forward to climb on the bed, he feels that old echo. Relives the novel experience of learning that Rude wants him. Even if he comes from nothing. It’s so pleasant to travel that path again he feels dizzy and disconnected. 

But Rude is there.

Reaching around him to unbutton his shirt and ease it back down his shoulders. Sliding off his pants and briefs. And then pushing him flat down on his stomach. The firm touch presses Reno down into the bed as Rude works him over with warm hands and a wet mouth. It’s half massage, half foreplay—oddly, just as relaxing as it is stimulating—and Reno starts losing his place in time.

When Rude rolls off him to reach down to the floor for the lube, like he’s done a hundred times before, Reno feels like he’s twenty-two again. Young and stupid and uncertain and unreasonably hopeful that this could be something good. And also like he’s old. Old enough to know how hard it can be. 

Reno is so relaxed that Rude barely prepares him. It’s familiar in the best way when Rude takes his hips and pushes inside. Reno sighs at the pleasure of this intimate connection, rubbing his face in the pillows. But Rude hauls him up off the bed. Pulls Reno flush against his chest and scoots up toward the pillows so Reno can lay his forearms on the top of the faux leather headboard and rest his cheek on them.

Rude’s arms are wrapped around Reno’s torso. Chest rubbing smoothly against back as Rude fucks him in long, steady strokes. It's slow and easy, the way they fit together after all these years shaping each other.

Rude rests his forehead in the curve of Reno’s neck, breathing softly against his shoulder blade. When Reno’s breath stutters, Rude reaches for his cock and lets Reno thrust into his hand as his body moves with Rude’s motion.

Reno is whimpering now. So ready. Arching his spine and tipping his head back into the curve of Rude's shoulder. Rude presses him close. Kisses along his neck and whispers, _You’re beautiful._

It sounds just the same. Just exactly the same as the first time Rude ever told him that. Or at least the first time Reno believed him. Sure, he’s heard it from Rude many times since. But Reno is certain now that Rude remembers. Whatever that night was like for Rude, six years ago. Fucking Reno in his shitty apartment. The lightheaded feeling of being propelled by booze and lust. The slippery sensation of cheap sheets against sweaty skin. Rude’s there now, too.

They come nearly at the same time. It’s Rude who has that kind of control. He can almost always make it happen. Tightening and twisting his hand slightly as he thrusts into Reno, not hard, but deep and smooth. Reno comes on the headboard with a quiet _ah… ah… ah_. Rude comes in Reno with a sigh. Arms tight around Reno’s ribs. Cheek pressed to the side of his neck.

And then it’s over. They treat each other gently, but don’t cuddle. They’re not at home. This isn’t a place they’re staying, only passing through.

Rude pulls the flat sheet completely off the bed and uses it to wipe them down and the headboard too. He leaves it bunched up near the pillows and hands Reno his clothes.

Dressed again, Reno stands and looks back at the messy bed. He laughs. “Yeah, I guess we’re not going to pack the sheets are we.”

“You think I’d sleep on polyester?” Rude asks with a raised eyebrow.

Reno rolls his eyes and opens his closet. He finds three suits in the older style, from before the uniform changed a few years ago. _God those were ugly_ , Rude mutters. A random collection of shirts and slacks that Reno hasn’t missed in the last two years. Ratty sneakers he should have thrown out. 

Crumpled on the floor Reno finds a gray sweatshirt. The fabric feels finer than what he would usually buy. He pulls it on and it’s as warm as Rude’s arms.

“That’s mine,” Rude notes as Reno pulls his ponytail out of the collar.

“Ours.” Reno jokes. It still smells like Rude’s cologne.

Rude is standing at Reno’s dresser going through the top drawer. He pulls out a silver stud earring. “You want this?”

Reno takes the stud and looks at it. He got it when he was fifteen. And now there’s a flat silver hoop in his ear that he borrowed from Rude. Borrowed and never gave back until a twin appeared back in Rude's ear one day and Reno assumed he should just keep it.

“I won’t wear it.” Reno hands it back.

Rude slips it into an interior pocket of his jacket. “Maybe I will.”

“You’ve got more holes in you,” Reno says casually. Like it doesn’t matter.

Rude just smiles the way he does. Barely.

They walk back into the living room together.

“You want me to put together a box?” Rude asks.

Reno takes one more look around the apartment. He wasn’t sad when he lived here. Not at all. He had money and a job and a safe space of his own for the first time in his life. But now…

“I don’t want to look at this stuff anymore. It’s depressing.”

Rude takes his hand. Not in a sappy, comforting way, but with motion. He’s moving and he’s taking Reno with him. “Let’s go. I'll take care of it for you.”

Reno doesn’t question it. That’s the good thing about Rude. He says something and then he does it and you don’t have to worry about it at all. 

One of the good things.

They leave the unused boxes on the floor and don’t bother locking the door when they go.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on twitter where I'm much more NSFW than this particular piece 😉 
> 
> [ @lemondroplan](https://twitter.com/LemonDropLan)


End file.
